Blind Wing
by The Broken Pentacle
Summary: Name: Maximum Ride. Goal: Saving the world. Progress: Gettin' there... The Flock has enroled in school, and are starting to put down some ties to the normal world, only to have it all blow up in thier faces. But Fang has a plan... It's just after the FW.
1. Has Max Lost Her MIND?

Jackie's POV

_**Blind Wing,**_

**Jackie's POV **

I woke up, and knew it was early morning. It was hard to tell, everything being so dark, but it _felt_ early. Sleepily, I took my alarm clock of the side table, feeling its hands. Ah. Just before dawn, my favorite time of day. I love watching the soft orange color the new sun makes, washing through my window. I waited for what felt like ages for the dawn to break through the pitch black. I reached for my alarm clock again. 7:15, it read. So, the sun was already up. Bitter disappointment flowed through me like a wave. What had I expected? That everything would be back to normal, because I was going back to school? No, nothing had changed, and probably nothing ever would, anymore. I sighed, sat up and rubbed my eyes (it's a habit,). Slowly and carefully I swung my legs out of bed and started feeling for the white cane propped against it.

**Iggy's POV**

You know, I never thought that Doctor Martinez, Max's mom, would betray us like this. She seemed so nice and understanding, but no more! She sent us back to one of the places that drive me crazy. School. Obviously not the Mutant-Creating-Wackjobs that made us, (that is, the Flock) but a normal school. Blah-blah-blah, that's all I hear at school, just noise. And if I lose the person I'm following in a crowd… I'm doomed.

"Don't worry, Iggy," Said Doctor Martinez kindly, "this school has a special class for –" She hesitated, "kids with vision impairments." Nice save, Doc. I just grunted.

"Come on, Ig!" Said Max. That's her, sometimes kick-butt, sometimes peppy. "It sounds like a good place that Mom's enrolled us in, for however long a time." Whoa, now that's out of character. Max _wanting _to go to school? Weird.

"Whatever," I grunted and headed upstairs, to my room, and away from the topic of

'School'.

**Max's POV**

Going to school. Okay, I'll admit, I do have other motives than higher education. One is to get away from everybody. To have friends my own age, and NOT have a freaky relationship with one of them. Yes, I mean the average clique of girls. 'Huh?' You might ask. 'Max, Normal?' Well, yes. I _can_ do more than kick Flyboy butt. Astonishing, right? Another motive is Fang. He's been… really getting to me lately. But that's not what I'm talking about. I mean him throwing himself at anything 'feminine.' So, I'm gonna see how _he _likes it! Yes, I, Maximum Ride, will become a Flirt. Ugh. And now I think I'm gonna be sick. Oh well, anything to annoy Fang.

**Jackie's POV**

Okay, what does everyone look for when you come back from being away so long? That's right, changes. Changes in the way you look, the way you act, even the way you walk. What changed for me? One tip was the honking _white stick_. I said flat out that I wouldn't wear sunglasses, because that would look too weird inside school. Yep, you guessed it; I'm blind. It happened a few months ago, and I still don't want to talk about it, thank you very much. So, I'm waiting in the main hall, right outside the front doors. It felt very odd to hear the bustle of the school and not be able to see it. A familiar voice called out my name. I was pretty sure it was Miss Rogers, the guidance counselor.

"Jackie!" I turned towards the sound.

"Hi, Miss Rogers," I said. Miss Rogers came up and hugged me tight.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she said giving me a squeeze "so very sorry, Jackie." She let go, and continued talking. "The ones who did it were expelled of course, and there are some trials going on to see if they should go to Juvie or not." Apparently, my face showed that I didn't want to talk about it, so she dropped the subject like a hot potato. We stood there silently for a while, until Miss Rogers got up the courage to say, "We have some new students coming today, and one will be in your class." I turned toward her, slightly surprised.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"He's a he, and I think his name's – ooh, wait, here he comes now. He can introduce himself, I think." I heard some talking and a lot of what sounded like "come _on,_" and "just jump in!" and one sarcastic voice saying "one problem; I can't see where _to_ jump in. Or at all, in case you haven't noticed." His voice was wonderfully mellow, and had a slight curve to the words, like he was an exotic kind of American, and knew it.

"Hi, I'm Miss Rodgers, the guidance counselor."

"Jeff Martinez," said the voice. Only, I can't just say he's a voice now, can I?

"Nice to meet you, Jeff!" said Miss Rodgers, and I could tell she was smiling. "Come on, I'll show you to your class."

"Uhh… thanks." He fell into step with her as she led us away, to a classroom in the west wing of the school. At least, I _think_ it was the west wing.

**Iggy's POV**

We had decided to use the name I had used when Anne Walker took us in. (We all remember how well _that_ ended, right?) And now, after some pushing, poking, and general threats, I was sitting in a class with only a few people in it. We were in the east wing of the school, in a small room with another peppy sounding teacher. Honestly, couldn't I meet one teacher that doesn't sound like she was from the Pep squad?

"Now," she said, we're going to go around the room and introduce ourselves. Tell everyone your name and a few things about yourself. When I tap on your desk, I want you to speak. Is that okay with everybody?" there was a general murmuring of yesness.

"Okay…" she said, striding up to one desk. "You first!" I won't bore you with the details, but here are some names;

Rob Marcus, (has one fake eye, and vision issues with the other,)

Erin Goodal, (has tunnel vision all the time, but too proud to get treatment,)

Michel Volision, (He's blind, like me.)

And another girl, but I thought she sounded… less… what's the word I'm looking for? Stuck up? Self-pitying? Yes, that was it. When the teacher knocked on her desk, she spoke up, and _didn't _tell us what was wrong with her eyes.

"Uh, hi. I'm Jackie Blaire, and I'm fourteen. I like to sing, dance, make pottery, and listen to books on CD…" her voice faltered there, as if she knew that at another time, she would have said 'reading.' She continued. "Uh… I used to play volleyball and tennis, and I am almost _useless_ at cooking." I could tell she paused there, probably smiling. "If there was one thing I could change in my life, it would be my hair. It's short, thin, and a dry dirt shade of brown, last time I checked. I can't do _anything_ with it!" she was grinning, I could tell. Don't really know _how,_ but I could.

"Very nice Jackie." Said the teacher, who then moved to me. I just said,

"I'm Jeff Martinez, I'm fourteen too, and I like building my own time bombs and flying on my superhuman wings." This only got a laugh out of the teacher and Jackie. I grinned to myself. How could they know I wasn't kidding?

"I was kidding, of course, but I _was_ adopted by Doctor Valentina Martinez, along with several other kids. I like extreme sports, (_like flying, for instance.) _and listening to my iPod. The end." Well, no need to overdo it. It's just, for some reason, I wanted people to think I was even _slightly_ funny.

The teacher (whom I later learned was called Miss Luthivera,) told us about herself, and then went about teaching. We did all the things a normal class would do; only we didn't use the black board at _all_. We had completely the same lessons as every other fourteen-year-old in the place, only our curriculum included Braille.

I found out we have an early lunch. (Oh joy; I'm stuck with these freaks all day! Not to be judgmental, or anything, but they do mope around a lot, and sometimes they bang into walls. All except Jackie, who seems to look on the bright side of things, and uses her stick, instead of sticking her arms out in front of her like a zombie. And the only reason I know they do that is because the teacher scolded them for dancing like someone from 'Thriller'.) Anyway, back to lunch.

"Pizza at three o'clock fries at six, a dollop of ketchup at eight, and green beans at eleven." Reeled off Miss Luthivera. I was totally confused. Were we eating on clocks, or something?

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" I asked the person next to me, who turned out to be Rob.

"How come you don't know that?" he drawled. His voice is all high and whiney. He sounded like the essence of a brat. "I mean –That's the first thing they teach you when you have vision issues." Another voice sounded in front of me, across the table.

"Oh, shut up, will you Rob? Maybe he was taught different at his old school." Let me think… nope! Not one mention of clock-eating at White-Coat World!

"It's like a clock," said the voice, which I identified as Jackie's. "Pizza on the right of the plate, Fries on the bottom, a dollop of ketchup on the left of those, and green beans on top," she said.

"Oh." I tried not to sound like a complete idiot, so I turned it into a joke. "Sounds like some weird kind of sandwich." Oh boy, I am so _lame_ at jokes!

"Yeah," she said. "I guess. Not the way I would put it, but, I guess you're right."

Okay, now I feel really, really, stupid.

She laughed.

"Aw, it's okay!" she had interpreted my silence right. "The sandwich thing was actually kinda funny."

Oddly enough, that didn't help.

**Max's POV**

Okay, first day at our new school. I dressed normally, but cutely. I _really_ don't want Fang guessing my motives for becoming 'Miss Flirt of the Year,' To put a long story short, I had to almost push Iggy into the building, had a little help from the Voice in my classes, (so annoying, yet so useful…) and had several guys stare at me. I'm not sure how the last bit happened. It must have been the fact that the shirt I chose this morning really advertises my figure. What's really scary is that I didn't know I had one until I tried on that shirt and looked in the mirror. And I mean – it was only a T-shirt… nothing _revealing, _or anything. Just a dark blue Tee… hmm… this flirt thing is going to be hard to get used to.

I headed downstairs, to where my mom was fixing us all Tacos. She knows we're always hungry, so when I entered the kitchen, it looked like she was preparing to feed a small army.

"You _rock_, mom!" I said with feeling as I smelled the spicy beef and home made sauce. She turned and grinned. "You all would get fed faster if I had some help." I can take a hint. Mumbling something about Iggy being a better cook, I picked up a knife and started chopping tomatoes. You know, it was almost like being normal. Just standing there, helping ma- OW! Almost hit my thumb.

**Iggy's POV**

I was sitting in my room listening to some music. I'm not sure what I was listening to, because my head was full of fog. I had Braille for home work, which was kind of odd. Running your fingers over little dots to read something... is a little difficult. I mean, what if you skip one? But, whatever. I smelled tacos downstairs, and I heard Ella and Nudge talking in the next room. Those two were best friends now, and why wouldn't they be? They are the same age, they both like to talk, and their both a little obsessive about TV, gossip, and fashion.

"No way, no _way!_" I heard Nudge squeal. "You mean that Brendon – OMG!" who is this Brendon person everyone keeps mentioning? Is he like, on some sort of soap? Come _on,_ Get a life. I stood up from my bed, and walked downstairs, so the girls could talk about their beloved _Brendon _by themselves.

**Fang's POV**

Max was acting weird. She actually_ wanted_ to go to school, which I can not exactly relate to. 'Who knows?' she said, 'Some learning might do us good. After all, the Flyboys are out of action for a while, so, no worries.' One of the problems of knowing Max as well as I do, is knowing when she's not lying, but not telling the truth. She really does want to go to school, but for different reasons. I think I have them almost figured out, but I won't say them out loud, in case I'm wrong.

When I went downstairs, Max was sitting grumpily at the kitchen table.  
"What's wrong with _you?_" I asked. She glared at me, in that endearing way she has.

"Cut myself chopping the tomatoes," She grumbled. "Stupid things."


	2. A Schedule Change

**Hello, people from planet Jupiter and beyond! I have had serious writers block, so i could not write for a long time. plus, my computer broked. :( This chapter is just a space filler, based on MY school scedual. _Oh yeah!_ exept i don't do Braille. I have guitar. Anyway, Just to get the annoying copyright thing outta my way, -ahem-**

**I am not, nor shall I ever be James Patterson, and I do not own 'School House Rock.' (Keep reading...)**

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**Iggy's POV**

GUESS WHAT I FOUND OUT!

I was told today that the block schedule is starting today, and I won't be with the other kids from my group for most of the day. It turned out that all day homerooms was just a temporary measure. Someone had messed up the school's programming system, scrambling grades, names and class schedules. The first day of block scheduling was sort of confusing, even with Fang's help.

_First block, 'A' day:_ I had social studies, which I found interesting. The teacher seemed to have an amazing collection of couches, bookshelves and world maps in his room. Mostly, the teacher – Mr. Gibbs ("Who" I quote, "Likes ad libs.") got to know us a bit and showed us some School House Rock videos on forms of government. When most of us started snickering at 'I'm Just a Bill,' he said;

"No, class, don't laugh! This is a very serious video!" This made us laugh even more.

_Second block, 'A' day:_ Algebra was next. It was a quite boring lecture on my teacher's part. Mostly all;

"This year we'll… And… Respect between classmates and me… Blah-de-blah-blah." Obviously, I made up the 'Blah-de-blah-blah,' part, but I wasn't paying attention anyway. She sounded like a harpy-ish kind of lady.

_Third Block, 'A' day_: Exploratory class. It's like taking art, music, band, film making, computers, and drama in one class. You take a new subject almost each half-semester. It's really cool, actually. This semester, I've got Drama. I think I should ace this class, seeing as I'm acting constantly at school.

_Fourth block, 'A' day:_ For most students, this is the elective class. You know, French, German, Guitar, stuff like that. For me, it's back to homeroom to get my daily dose of Miss. Luthivera, Braille, and other topics that will 'Make life easier for me.' Oi Ve.

Fang's in all of my classes except for the last one. Instead, he's got guitar, and I envy him. He claims that the other kids in his class are total jerks, but he still gets to rent a guitar. Lucky butt. And I'm only in two classes with Jakie... Did I just say that?


	3. International Day

**Hello, people from planet Jupiter and beyond! To get the annoying copyright thing outta my way, -ahem-**

**I am not, nor shall I ever be James Patterson, unless we don't live in the world of reality.**

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Iggy's POV

'INTERNATIONAL WEEK' the banner read. Of course, I couldn't read it myself, but that's what the Gasman said. Each high school student has to dress up to represent a different country. I'm Austria. Who would've thought, the tall blonde playing Hitler? Whoo-hoo. Max is India, so she gets to play dress-up with her friend Teja. Funnily enough, (not,) she's not overly trilled. Fang's Greece and, personally, I told him to go with the toga. He didn't like the idea. Jackie (who, shockingly, is now, my friend. Or, at least, someone outside the flock who I hang out with regularly.) Is some country in the Middle East. I can't remember those weird names at all.

"So, what are you doing for your booth?" she asked me on the way to Social Studies.

"Dunno. Probably just some stuff on Hitler, or some other crap."

"Er, Jeff? Hitler is German."

"Oh. Then what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"How'm I supposed to know? It's your country."

"Well, what's the amazing Jacquelyn doing for… what was it? Where-the-heck-istan?"

"No, idiot." She said, her tone heated at the use of her real name. "It's Syria. You know, Damascus, from the Bible?" Oh… Told you the name was hard to remember! Honestly…

"No, I don't, but, to speed things up, let's pretend I do. So, what are you doing?"

"Oh, I know what I'm doing. Unlike some people. Anyway, I'm probably going to make some Hummus and Damascene cookies. I'm gonna go with the whole Muslim theme, and wear a head scarf and Abya." What, what, and what?

"You lost me. What's a Hum-dum?" She laughed quietly, as she sometimes does when she knows something that many people don't. It gets on my nerve, sometimes, but mostly, I deal with it.

"That's Hummus, Jeff. It's, like, chickpea dip, I guess. Damascene cookies are cookies from Syria's capital, Damascus. Abya's are long black robes that women wear to cover everything but their eyes. Won't be much use for me, huh?" Snore… Wait, she finished? I zoned out after 'dip.' I snored out loud, just to make my point. I heard her mutter

"At least I'm not a Nazi in a personality crisis…" before we entered the classroom.

"Okie-Dokie, kids!" said Mr. Gibbs. "You all have a country assigned, right?" there was a general murmuring of 'yes.' "Okay, tell us then! I wanna know," Our countries had been assigned in homeroom, so Mr. Gibbs had missed most of the action. "GREG!" he yelled. "You first!" Oh boy… The Ad-Lib man is not in a good mood.


	4. Blue Dresses and China

**Max's POV**

Good grief. This is 'International Day' is getting on my nerves. Teja, who is in my social studies class, is helping out with my Indian theme.

"C'mon, Max!" She said, showing me a scarf like material.

"No."

"The pink suits you," she said, holding the material up to my arm. True, the dark pink color did go well with my hair and my skin, but pink just wasn't my thing.

"Teja! Look, pink is okay, but if I do have to wear it… well, do you have it in blue?" she thought about it. She has dark brown skin, with black hair. She's skinny, but short. Right now, she had a small smile on her face. She thought it was funny, the way I abstained from anything girly, even with the way I dressed. Today, I had ventured a white tank top with a green half-shirt tie on over top things, (I really don't know what they're called.) and a pair of knee-length khaki pants. Cute, yes. Practical, no. Anyway, back to the International day dress thing.

"Kind of," Teja said. "It's more of a dark blue and silver kind of thing." Her smile widened. "Is that okay for the fashion queen?" I moaned. Teja's nice and all, but sometimes she spots things that others don't. Like my attitude doesn't match the way I dress, for instance.

"That's fine, thanks." I muttered. She found that amusing, for some reason.

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**Fang's POV**

Let's just get one thing straight; this sucks. And it's not only the stupid International day, either. The internet cables were cut. Now I am cut off from the World Wide Web, and forced to read the newspaper. Not to mention, the Blog was doing really well right now. Lots of comments, lots of questions. Even some people asking to marry me… (not all of them girls… ew.) Here are what some of the reviewers said.

To Fang

From hionyou4422

Hey, Fang, if u like dump max, u can go for some1 like me! Here's a pic

*CENSORED*

To Fang

From thatchinagirl

Hey, ever thought of doing something overseas? If Europe and America have Schools and Institutes, then Asia and other places probably do! Maybe you could check it out?

Mary

To The Flock In General

From Funkymonkey555

Hey, u can use my bungalow in Florida if u want to… plenty of room! Don't worry about it… Fang can use my room!

To Fang

From whowantstoknow

Look, man, I don't get it. Why don't we- the kids, I mean, get together and totally over throw the School! And maybe the government while we're at it! Yeah! Kids in charge!! Right on!

The Ozzymaster

Do you see what I mean? Only 'thatchinagirl' had a good suggestion. (The others were illogical, in the case of 'whowantstoknow' and just plain gross in the case of the other two. The picture was censored for a reason.) Maybe I should suggest going to Asia to Max. She and the girls liked the last international trip. Just think; flying on top of the great wall; people stopping and staring; sitting on the roof of the emperors palace… and that's only China! Maybe I will mention it to Max. A vacation would do us all good. Only, I'd have to pretend it's a mission so Max would do it… hmm. Maybe I could flip on the discovery channel, when there happens to be a show about Asia on… or maybe Angel could ask Max a question about China. Max is always a sucker for Angel's enthusiasm, so that might work. The problem with plotting against Max is that it generally fails.

And I haven't forgotten the attempts she's been making to look hot, (not failing, to be honest,) and the fact three boys asked her out already. She didn't say yes to any of them, but it's only a matter of time. It's hard to be the brother-figure of someone who looks like she does. Kind of brother-figure, anyway.

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**Okay, time to tell me what you think...! i'm more likely to update if you send me your opinions! C'mon.... I kno you waaannnt tooooo!!!! don't make me sad . I will set my brother on you if i get sad. He's a sugar-high ten-year-old and I'm not afraid to use him!! **

**So, please make me happy and push the magic green button. Thank-youz! **


	5. The Fair

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Blind Wing,

**Hey Guys! Oh my gosh, I'm SOOO sorry for the delay! It's just that I had major writers block and I felt that this story was kinda crappy so I abandoned it. SORRY. :( I'm workin on it though!**

**I don't own any of the MR characters.**

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Max's POV

The babble of the International Day fair was going on all around. I had already seen Nudge and Angel in the crowd, and was on the lookout for Gazzy. Knowing him, he would pull some sort of stupid prank that would get us all in trouble. Sighing, I ran the power-point I had cobbled together on India again. As a recording of my voice talked, I pointed at the various signs on the poster board. I winced every time the bangles around my wrists jingled. The dress Teja had loaned me was indeed a blue and silver piece. Unfortunately, it also showed a decent portion of my stomach, causing several of the boys who, unfortunately, were now my personal groupies/stalkers to gather around _my_ booth, completely ignoring their own. One even asked if this was the kissing booth! Let me tell you, he got a major knuckle sandwich for that one. After that, my own personal fan club hastily dispersed.

I saw Fang a few booths over, playing the Greek national anthem on his rented guitar. He was getting pretty good, actually.

Iggy was close by him, looking awkward in a rented military uniform. My eyes narrowed as the Gasman emerged from the crowd next to Iggy, and started whispering and grinning. If they set off another bomb… But then Ig did something weird. He shoved Gazzy slightly and said something, blushing. He was embarrassed? About what?

_Iggy has a personal life too Max._ said my Voice. _You can't always be the mother._ I scowled. Why was I the one stuck with this annoying little… _thing_ in my head?

_Bug off,_ I growled mentally. _I can't be Ig's mom, yeah, but I _am_ his sister for all intensive purposes. _I heard the Voice sigh with defeat.

_You will embarrass him – and yourself – further if you inquire into this._ It said.

_Too bad,_ I growled, and stormed off to Iggy's booth.

"Naw, she just says that you probably look kinda funny in that uniform. She bets that tan doesn't suit you at _all._" I heard Gazzy chuckle. _She?_ Iggy is getting messages from a _she?_ Wow… who

knew?

"Yeah, well she probably doesn't look exactly normal herself! Probably more like a heap of black sheets than anythin'…" I approached the gleeful younger of the two and asked,

"Okay, you have two seconds to tell me what the hell is going on." Gazzy turned, his eyes radiating mischief.

"Oh, Iggy's just flir-"

"Can it!" snapped Iggy, "I'm not flirting and she's NOT my girlfriend, as I've told you millions of times before!" The angry communist of the party stormed off into the crowd. Oops. Bad move… Gazzy went into hysterics.

"Man, I wish we had caught that on tape! Aw, that was hilarious…" he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"It wasn't _that_ funny, Gaz," I said. "Who is this 'she' you two were babbling about?" The Gasman grinned.

"Oh, only Ig's not-really-kinda-sorta-yeah girlfriend." I raised an eyebrow.

"The one that looks like a heap of cloth?" He nodded.

"The one in the Arab booth," I nodded and headed over there, to check that she wasn't a spy/Eraser. I know they were all wiped out, but it never hurts to check.

The girl in the booth did indeed look rather like a shapeless mass of black fabric. I paused and inspected the information on display, then looked at the things arranged on the table. Little things, like models of instruments and such, but it really showed how much this kid put into her projects.

"Sabah el Nouur," She said brightly. "Keefak?" I stared at her blankly.

"No comprende." I said bluntly.

"No, no," She laughed. "That means 'good morning, how are you?' in Arabic." She paused a moment before adding, "Though, seeing as you're a girl, it should really be Kee_fek_, cuz of the feminine pronoun." I raised my eyebrows at this.

"Well, _someone's _done her research," The fabric around her face moved slightly into what I thought was a smile.

"Would you like to try the Arab dishes?" She asked. I eyed the strange collection of food warily.

"No thanks. I actually came to ask you about my brother, Jeff." The girl's eyes – the only thing I could see behind the Abya – brightened.

"Yeah, Jeff. He's in all my classes. Shoot."

I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. I hadn't actually got a question.

"Well," I stammered. "Er… uh. Are you two dating?" I asked. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ I felt like whacking myself on the head.

The eyes narrowed.

"No. Why?" Ah. Why didn't I listen to the Voice more often?

"Er… It's just… um…"

"All high-School students report to your booths. All high-school students, at your booths please!" Yes! Judging time. Saved by the bell.

"See ya," I muttered, dashing through the crowd to my booth.

"Alright, _who_ had the guts to tape a chick magazine to the front of my booth?!?" I said, glaring at the surrounding boys. They put their tails between their legs and ran for it. Grumbling, I snatched the magazine down and threw it in a nearby trashcan. Stupid boys.

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**You may proceed with your life now.**


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